Homecoming
by KittyThomas
Summary: Hohenheim's thoughts as he travels home, hoping to re-unite with his family, only to find his house burnt to the ground. Covers how he met Trisha and became a husband and father, and his thoughts on his two sons.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Van Hohenheim... one of the most fascinating, interesting and underdone characters in the history of anime. He has over four centuries of backstory, and yet we know so little about him... just his beginning, and his end. The underdone bit is deliberate I'm sure, but still, I would like to have known a little bit more about him. We know that he had a temper in his youth, but has mellowed considerably in his old age. We know that he loved Trisha, but couldn't stay with her or their sons. I've always wondered what brought him home after so many years, why he'd never written in all that time, and what he must have felt when he discovered his home in ruins. Thus, this was born...**

**Homecoming**

It had been a long time, but Van Hohenheim was finally going home. He had little concept of how long he'd been away, but he was sure it had been a fair few years. In all his long life, in his centuries of wandering, nothing had felt longer than the time he had spent away from his family.

He had lived in Resembool consecutively for only a few short years, but it was still the only home he'd ever known.

Home.

It felt so good to say, think it, to see the green fields of Resembool pool out of the distance as the train rushed forwards. It had broken his heart to leave it all that time ago, broken his heart to stay there, too. Trisha had understood, he knew she had, but now he was going to have to explain it to Pinako and Edward and Alphonse-

His sons. He wondered how old they were now. Would they still be playing outside, messing around of that swing he'd made them? Or would they be too old for that- off chasing girls or making mischief?

He supposed he'd find out, soon enough.

For the umpteenth time, he wondered if he'd done right, never writing or calling once in all this time. For the most part, it had been too hard- he'd been travelling rough, staying far away from civilisation. He knew he could have done if he'd have tried, but emotionally, it had been too difficult. How would Trisha explain to the boys why their father wrote and didn't come visit? And how would be bear it, never being able to hear back from them, since he moved about too often? Or worse, hearing from them, his beloved family, and never being able to finish his quest?

It didn't matter now, he was almost back. Not to stay, not quite yet, but to explain everything. To tell Trisha that he had found a way to become mortal, but would have to leave her once more... to try and save the world, and maybe not come back.

_"Resembool station! Next stop, Resembool station!"_

The train slowed to stop and Hohenheim was the first to get up.

"Home," he mumbled beneath his breath. "I'm back."

He got off the carriage muttering under his breath over and over again, as though he didn't quite believe he was there, standing in Resembool station after so long. Everything looked just the same- one of the things he loved about the place. There was the tavern where he and Pinako had spent many a good night, drinking themselves under the table, there was the same butchers, corner shop, bakers... and the green-grocers, where he'd first met Trisha.

Trisha Elric, the first and only woman he'd ever loved, _could _ever love. The soul that made all the others inside him pale by comparison, the only person he'd ever entrusted his secret to. Over four hundred years he'd been in the world until he met her, and yet she was the one that had taught _him _things. How to love, to believe in soulmates, to be a father...

A newspaper fluttering in the breeze caught around his ankles. His eyes darted to the date. 1915. He had been gone over ten years.

Trisha would be thirty-seven now, and Edward and Alphonse would be in their teens, practically men already. Were they going to hate him for turning up now, when he'd abandoned them as tiny children? There was only one way to find out.

He took a deep breath and started up the lane.

He shouldn't be going home yet, it would only cause her more heartbreak. But, if she had the choice, he knew she'd want to see him once more, just like he wanted to see her.

Maybe he wouldn't tell the boys, maybe he'd just see her, leave before they got home. Would that be better, perhaps? He longed to see them again, and he owed them more than a simple explanation, but if things took a turn for the worse and he didn't come back, would he just be added unnecessary confusion into their lives?

Not a single day had gone by when he hadn't thought of them, wondered how they were doing, what sort of people they were becoming. With Trisha as their mother, they could only be good, but that didn't stop him from wondering. Had Edward started to drink milk? Had Al got his much longed-for kitten? Was little Winry Rockbell still their best friend, or had this blossomed into something more over the years? He caught the boys "fighting" over her more than once before he'd left.

The Rockbells... how they were doing? They were good people, the very best. He could imagine the house full of kids by now, that had always been their plan one day. Perhaps he'd go up there, after he'd seen Trisha, just to see.

The closer he got, the more memories came flooding back. Meeting Trisha by bumping into her at the green-grocers where she worked, then bumping into her again with Pinako. She was a good friend of the family's, having grown up with Urey Rockbell. She didn't have any family, her late parents' house all by herself. She offered him a room when he revealed he had no where to stay.

She talked a lot, and he liked that, just about happy, inane things. She'd known a lot of sadness in her life, but she'd taken it all in her stride.

He surprised himself, how quickly he'd fallen in love with her. It was like falling over a cliff... even if you saw it coming, there was no way you could stop yourself from falling, and falling hard.

He told her what he was, and she'd just smiled, as if she'd already known, and taken that in her stride as well.

Before he knew it, they were married. Nothing had mattered back then, they were in love, untouchable. What he was, what she was- nothing came between them. He was so caught up in being normal, in playing the part of husband and lover, that he honestly forgot for some time that he wasn't completely human.

"Nearly there now," he smiled to himself, reaching a familiar fork in the road. He looked out over the fields to where two hills dipped together, hoping to a have a first glance at the house. To his surprise, he couldn't see it. "Odd," he thought, but then pushed it back. It had been sometime since he'd been there, he'd probably misjudged the location slightly. He could still see the tree, just about. The house was probably just behind the hill.

When Trisha had told him they were having a baby, he'd been over the moon. They'd discussed it, of course, and he'd expressed worries that he would be able to have children at all. Trisha just smiled and said they'd see what came.

Edward came. A tiny, bouncing baby son with a temper unlike any he'd ever seen. He screamed an awful lot and made a fuss about the smallest things... and Hohenheim loved him, in a strange and completely indescribable way that was impossible to understand until you became a father for yourself. If Hohenheim would have moved Heaven and Earth for his wife, he would have moved the universe for his son, done absolutely anything within his power to spare him pain and suffering.

The same thing happened when Alphonse was born, little over a year later. Two tiny miracles.

"See?" Trisha had laughed when Al had been placed in her arms for the first time. "And you were worried we wouldn't have children! We'll have a house full of them, you'll see. We've already got a head start over Urey and Sara!"

Al was the perfect foil for his rough, tempestuous, reckless older brother. He was calm and quiet, patient and gentle from the earliest age- very much his mother's son. It was easy to see (after some initial sibling rivalry) that both brothers adored each other.

He hoped that was still the case.

"It must be," he smiled to himself. "Trisha raised them good, I know she did. Trisha-"

Hohenheim stopped, turning the corner onto the road where his house once stood, but there was nothing there, just a few brick foundations and moss-covered wooden beams, and the burnt-out shell of a tree where he once hung that swing.

Nothing. No bright roof, no painted door. No garden, no flower boxes hanging from the windows. No washing line, or sound of children playing. No Trisha, singing as she made the dinner.

No Trisha...

No Trisha, or Edward, or Alphonse.

Nothing, just a hollow, blackened ruin that didn't even look like part of a house anymore.

_What... what happened here? _Hohenheim was shaking. Where was Trisha? Where were the boys? Had there been some accident, some fire? Had they got out, or had they-

_No. They got out, _Hohenheim clenched his fists together. _They had to._

He walked, half-dazed, up the road to where the Rockbell house stood. Somebody there would tell him what was going on, where his family had gone. Logical sense and reason had abandoned him, what he would say to whoever was there didn't matter, he just had to know...

He walked up the steps to the front door, ignoring the warning growls coming from inside. He didn't trouble to knock, just lifted up the latch and stood in the doorway. A little old woman rushed up to meet him.

"Pinako," he breathed, "My house is gone."

.o0o.

**A/N: I want to follow this up with the conversation between Pinako and Hohenheim, as she explains exactly what happened and we see a different side to this enigmatic character, but we'll see! R & R, pretty please? **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: First off, a mahoosive thank you to all those that reviewed! It was an awesome thing to wake up to this morning, they were all so nice and BIG. You are all lovely people and you make me smile. :D**

**I don't like this little chapter as much, but I did try! **

**Part II**

Pinako told him to sit down while she went to make a pot of tea, muttering and murmuring under her breath. He followed her into the kitchen, hovering over her and asking the same question over and over again.

"Where are my family? Where are my family?"

"It's a shame you didn't call ahead of you, I could have made lunch-"

"My family, Pinako..."

"I'm afraid you've caught me short. Will you take it black?"

"Pinako-"

"No sugar, still?"

For years, Hohenheim had kept his temper under lock and key, well aware of the danger he could do if he lost it, but nothing could stop him now. Pinako was dodging his questions, avoiding his eyes, refusing to look him in the face.

"Pinako! Just tell me- WHERE THE HELL IS MY FAMILY?"

The old woman sighed, and came to sit down. She looked like she no longer had the strength to stand.

"There was no way we could contact you-"

"Pinako-"

"She's gone, Hohenheim. Not long after you left."

Pinako was used to pain and anguish, physical and mental. She'd given bad news, received plenty of it too. Yet that look in Hohenheim's eyes, the pain in his face as it crumpled, was enough to bring even her hardened heart to tears. She'd never seen anyone look so broken in so short amount of time. He didn't even try to contradict her, didn't even try to deny it was true. He just sat down, face in his face, eyes far, far away.

"The... the fire?" he said eventually, "The boys-"

"They're alive, more or less."

"More or...? Tell me."

"It won't be easy-"

"Tell me."

"The fire didn't kill her... illness did." Pinako began difficultly. "We tried... and she tried... but it wasn't enough. I looked after Edward and Alphonse afterwards, best I could... me and Winry. Then they... they went away for a while. To study Alchemy."

"Alchemy? They're Alchemists?"

Pinako nodded slowly. "Damned good 'uns too, or so I hear. Ed's the youngest state alchemist in history."

"What... what happened to them? Where are they now?"

"There's no easy way to say this, Hohenheim... They tried to bring her back."

Any colour left in Hohenheim's face immediately vanished. He remained as still as ever, face clenched in his hands. Pinako was forced to continue.

"They failed, of course. Badly. Alphonse lost his entire body, Ed saved him, binding his soul to a suit of armour. He lost his arm and his leg."

She walked across to the noticeboard and pulled off a photograph, sliding it across the table. "Here, take a look at your sons... what's left of them."

"I can't."

"Take a look at them!"

"I CAN'T!"

Suddenly, Hohenheim was on his feet, bringing his fist crashing down on the table and banging it repeatedly until it smashed into pieces and he fell to the ground. He was screaming now, howling like a dog in pain. Pinako had never, ever seen him like this, and she'd known him some fifty years. He carried on screaming until his voice was horse and the table was nothing but splinters.

"What have I done?" he wept, curling up in the rubble. "What have I done? Trisha... Edward... Alphonse... my boys..." the photo fell across his gaze, and he picked it up, running his fingers over the faces. Alphonse, not the small, sweet boy he'd left behind, but a cold suit of armour, and Edward, with a face so like his own, hampered by mechanical limbs. The pain he must have gone through, the pain they both must have felt...

"My boys... my precious sons..."

Pinako let him carry on for a while longer before she felt her own temper snapping. "All right, there's enough of that! You're not the only one to have lost people, you know! Winry lost both her parents in that terrible war... my only son... I had to raise her by myself, and your boys too. Straighten up and be man! Your boys are trying to fix the mistakes they made, you can try and do the same."

Hohenheim stood up and shook the debris of his suit, seemingly regaining his composure as quickly as he'd lost it.

"I... I am sorry... I'll fix the table for you now..."

Hohenheim didn't ask any more questions about his family after that, and didn't make any effort to explain himself. He just sat down, sipped his tea, and asked after Winry. When Pinako said that she was in Central with the brothers, he steered the conversation away. He didn't seem to want to hear about them any more. He asked if it would be all right to stay a night, before moving on again.

"You don't want to go and see your boys?"

"I don't think it would be wise. They won't want to see me."

"Hmm. You're probably right about that. Doesn't mean you shouldn't. You owe them an explanation."

"Do you honestly think anything I said would be good enough?"

Pinako smiled wryly. "True." Hohenheim headed for the door, and she didn't need to ask him where he was going. "Why... why did you leave, Hohenheim?"

He half-turned towards her, looking back over his shoulder with most of his face shrouded in shadow. "It doesn't matter now." _I should never, ever have left..._

"Well, why did you come back?"

Hohenheim didn't answer. He was already halfway out the door.

**A/N: There we go. I have more if people want it... the meeting between Edward and Hohenheim over Trisha's grave. Poor Hohenheim... I feel really sorry for him, but this is "fun" to write, flesh out his character a bit, since he always confused me a little bit, he didn't seem to quite understand WHY Edward was so mad at him (eg. "What are you calling your parent a bastard for?") and even went as far as to suggest somebody should have scolded them for their attempt at transmutating Trisha. Well, in my opinion, he actually cares a great deal but can't express it, and only talked of scolding them because he knows _he _should have... he should have been there and doesn't blame anyone but himself.**

**Review, wonderful reviewers!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Part 3- Hohenheim meeting Edward by Trisha's grave. Most of the lines of dialogue are taken straight from the manga, but some of them are edited, seeing as I read manga scans and a lot of it DESPERATELY NEEDS EDITING ANYWAY. **

Part III

The stone was simple, just her name and date of birth and death. Nothing extra, nothing fancy, nothing to tell it apart from any of the other graves dotted about the cemetery, nothing but the fact that it was _her _grave, the grave of his wife.

Trisha Elric, 1878-1904. Twenty-six. She'd only been twenty-six. He was over 450 years old, and she had only been given twenty-six short years on this Earth. It just wasn't fair.

He crouched at Trisha's grave for two hours and wept, unaware of any of the other visitors that came by. That whole time, he didn't utter a single word, simply because he didn't have the strength. After that time had passed, he managed to crawl back to his feet, where he stood mumbling for at least another hour.

Hohenheim knew better than any the dangers, risks and impossibility of human transmutation, but even he could not stop the theories from running around his mind in that moment. He would have done anything in the world just to have one more day with her and the their family.

"Why... why didn't... you wait?" the words choked in his throat. "Why didn't...you wait... for me? We were supposed... supposed to go... together... Trisha... Trisha..."

Had she died hating him for deserting her and the boys? Did she look down on him now, cursing his name, blaming him for what their sons had tried to do and what had happened to them?

If he'd been there, if he'd stayed, he could have saved her. It would have been easy. Their house would still be standing strong. It was dinnertime now, they'd all be sitting down at the table, stuffing their mouths with Trisha's glorious cooking. They might have even had a child or two. They'd be one, big, happy family, without a care in the world...

But she was dead, and it was all his fault. His sons would be right to blame him.

He had finally become vaguely aware of another presence in the graveyard rushing up the path. They stopped a few paces behind him and gathered their breath. Hohenheim paid them no heed until he heard his own name shouted.

"Van Hohenheim!"

Slowly, he turned away from the grave and found himself staring in the face of a young boy he should have known well. His golden eyes were seethed in fury, but behind them, Hohenheim could still see the child he had once cradled in his arms. "Ed...ward?"

He wanted to rush towards him and gather him in his arms, to grovel and apologise until he was hoarse, to beg him to forgive him, but he couldn't, his legs were rooted to the spot. He did not deserve to be forgiven, and Edward was wearing a look that suggested he would kill him if he ever got close enough. He would never forgive him.

"Have you... grown bigger?" was the best he could manage. _What a pointless, stupid thing to say..._

"Why are you phrasing it like a question for?"

"You've got quite a reputation in Central... the 'smallest state alchemist in history'?"

"It's 'youngest'!"

"I heard from Pinako... you did a human transmutation."

"You bastard, you still have the cheek to show up here at this time!"

"What in blue blazes are you addressing your parent as a bastard for?" _Say it, Edward. Say it. _

"You're not just any bastard, you're _the _bastard! If you weren't in front of mother's grave right now, I would have knocked you down!"

_I wouldn't have blame you if you did. It's far less than I deserve. _His eyes turned back to Trisha, and the rest of the conversation flew by in a daze. He only heard every other word his son was spouting at him.

"Trisha... why did you die?"

"Why? It's because of a shit like you! You made her go through a lot of hardship!"

_I know... I know... _"A little more time, that's all... a little more time..."

"Ahhh! You planned to give her more hardship in that 'a little more time'!"

"I promised you so..."

"You have no idea how hard it was for her as a single mother!"

"Trisha... don't leave me alone..."

"You're the bastard that left her! Argh, we're not even communicating on the same frequency!" Ed punched the ground furiously. "You came back too late, and now you have no place to stay! Why the hell did you even come back?"

_I wanted to be with my family again. I wanted to come home..._

"Ah, yes... my home..." Hohenheim's gaze wandered towards the black landmark on the hill. "Why has it been burnt down? Nothing... there's not a single thing left of it."

Edward looked away uncomfortably. "We decided not to turn back from our chosen path. It was better not to have a home to return to. That's the resolve of our decision."

"You're wrong. It is because... one does not want to see the remnants of one's own mistakes, isn't it? It is for the sake of running away from the unpleasant memories, to erase the evidence of what we have done. It is just like the kid who wets his bed in the night and hides his sheets..."

"...No. You're wrong!"

"You are running away, Edward."

"WHAT WOULD A BASTARD UNDERSTAND ABOUT THAT!"

"I do understand." _So much..._

Edward turned away, face contorted with anger. He started back up the path, cursing under his breath. "Conversing with a bastard gives me a disgusting feeling."

"Didn't you come to visit her grave?"

"Not while I'm in this foul mood!"

Surprising even himself, Hohenheim left his wife's side and began to follow his son up the hill. He wasn't sure why, why he would leave her company to go after someone who so clearly hated him. Perhaps... perhaps, merely because he was alive, or _because_ he hated him... because he was giving him all the venom and spite he deserved.

"Stop following me!"

"You're going to Pinako's, right? I'm going there too as I have nowhere else to go. It can't be helped, I guess."

They walked for some time in icy silence, Ed always a few steps ahead of him. Hohenheim adjusted his stride to keep it that way, although he longed to be able to walk by his side.

"You have left your hair long," he said after a while. Then, as an after thought, "In the same style as mine as well."

It was clearly a bad thing to say. Ed immediately seized his ponytail and furiously braided it, before glaring at Hohenheim darkly for ever suggesting such a thing. He quickened his pace and hurried ahead.

Hohenheim smiled sadly to himself and sighed at the irony, however small a part he had played in his son's upbringing, however much his son despised him, they were still so obviously related. "He's exactly like me when I was young."

.o0o.

**A/N: I have two more little short chapters after this. One is Hohenheim watching Edward sleep (I loved that scene in the manga!) and the last LAST will be an extended scene at Trisha's grave right at the end. **

**PS, I just watch episode 63. Oh, it was so beautiful. Who else loved it? Best series ever? I think so!**

**I already have one of the parts written... will upload after some good reviews! :P**

**Virtual cookies to my wonderful reviewers. Love you all! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This is such a small bit, it would have been better attached to the last... but there's a very different tone and it felt better separate. I loved this scene in the manga... it shows how Hohenheim really must feel about Ed, even if he never says it...**

Part IIII

Later that night after Ed had been in bed for some time, Hohenheim wandered passed his room. The door was ajar, and without really thinking, he stepped inside softly, like he had done countless times when he was child. The number of times Trisha had caught him just watching their sons sleep, as if they were the most amazing, magical things in the world.

_I made those. _He'd think to himself, marvelling at their small forms, their chests rising and falling, their little hands curled around each other. To think that he, in this body of a monster, had made something so pure and perfect. There was a reason, he thought, that Alchemy could not make life. No science could ever make anything so flawless and uncorrupted as a child.

It was so strange now, to watch his son sleep. No longer a child, not yet quite an adult either, but in no way pure and uncorrupted as he had been.

Edward lay on his side with his back to the door, the full extent of his mechanical limbs on show. Even in the dark, Hohenheim could see the scars and burns from where metal met flesh, where the automail was seared into his skin. He could only imagine what it must have felt like, the pain this small boy must have known. This was the boy he used to carry about on his shoulders, rock to sleep, bathe, who he used to hold in his arms like it was the safest place in the world and swear he wouldn't let anything happen to him.

_I did this. I let this happen. To my own son... _

He remembered a very young Edward tugging at his trouser leg to help him stand. He'd been so keen to walk, to get up on his own two legs and run about wherever he wanted to. It had been a family joke that Alphonse had had to learn quickly too, just to avoid being left behind. Ed would run, leading the way, and Al would follow.

Family jokes... they had so few of them, he and Trisha, and none that the boys could ever understand.

He stepped closer towards the bed and extended a hand. _Just once... just once, I want to be able to hold my son, to stroke his hair once more..._

His fingers got so far and then he stopped, drawing his reach back. He had no right to hold his son any more, no right to be a father, and Edward would hate him for it.

Still, all he could see as he stared at that bed was the tiny, helpless little boy he loved, putting on a brave face and pretending that nothing, in the whole world, could hurt him.

.o0o.

**A/N: This is even more sad when you consider that Hohenheim NEVER gets to hold his sons again... the most he gets is a hand shake with Al and that brief moment where they support him in battle. It's so sad! **

**Oh, and there's one more chapter to go... Hohenheim returning after the events of the Promised Day. Coming home... for the last time... wahhh! Sniff-sniff...**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Last part! Not much to say, it's kind of sad... happy sad?**

**Part V**

At the sight of his two sons, smiling, surrounding by friends and finally, at long last, returned to their bodies, Hohenheim found himself smiling too. His heart swelled with pride and happiness, and then, suddenly, a hard jolt.

_Not long left now..._

It was time to go home.

With one last, long look at his boys, Hohenheim turned from then for the last time, confident that they were going to be fine. A part of him wanted to tell them what was going to happen next, but he knew that he shouldn't. They didn't need him now; they were happy. He wasn't going to do anything to spoil that for them.

It was a long journey back to Resembool, but it seemed to fly by. He stared out of the window the whole time, gazing at the sun-kissed fields of home and remembering all the happy times he ever had.

Each and everyone of them seemed to involve Trisha and the boys.

_He was asking her to marry him, mumbling his words and messing them up. She was laughing in reply at his nerves, saying she couldn't believe he'd even think she'd say anything but yes._

_ She was walking up the aisle. It was a simple ceremony- only the Rockbells there. Urey was his best man, Sara the maid of honour. Pinako was giving her away. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. Four-hundred-and-fifty-years old, and his life hadn't begun until that moment. He remembered thinking, "I can never love anyone but her."_

_ She was handing him Edward for the first time, and he found himself falling in love all over again. His life changed once more, irrevocably. He had a son. He was a father. _

_ They were by the river bank, lying on a picnic blanket under the shade of tree. Trisha was playing with Edward in the river, while Alphonse napped on his chest. He could pick the little details out of that memory, the heady summer scent of hot air and late blossoms, the weight of Al's tiny little body rising and falling on his, his miniature fists curled around his father's shirt. _

_ And the dark hem of Trisha's dress heavy with water, her hair unbound and flowing. Ed shrieking and flinging droplets of water everywhere, wearing the biggest smile he'd ever seen. _

Memories, so many memories.

All leading up to this one.

He found himself sitting in front of Trisha's grave once more, this time, knowing that nothing in the world could tear him away. He wondered dimly how much time he had left. He could feel his joints slowly stiffening, his skin beginning to crack. There was no pain, there wasn't even much discomfort- it was like old age creeping up on him all at once.

"I'm back, Trisha," he said defiantly. _And I'm not going to leave your side again... _"Edward... called me father. He did say, 'shit of a father' though."

His hands began to crystallise, the transmutation marks etching up his arms. He did not notice, and continued to talk to her, almost as if he expected her to talk back.

"I used to think that living a life longer than normal was nothing but tiresome, but since I met you, Trisha, and our sons, for the first time, I felt glad to be alive from the bottom of my heart. It's been a fulfilling life." he stopped for a moment, dropped his gaze and smiled. "Yeah. It's enough."

Another flash of memories. Lifting Ed up to meet his brother for the first time. Sitting down to eat dinner as a family. Watching from his study window as the boys played in the garden with little Winry. Winter evenings at the Rockbell house, sipping wine by the fire with his friends and family all around him, the kids curled up with the dog by the hearth.

_It's enough._

"Thank you, Trisha."

He could feel it now, the rest of his life, trickling away like water running through his fingers. He couldn't hold onto it even if he wanted to. Mere moments, a few seconds maybe, remained.

"Ahh, but," his own voice sounded far away. "In the end... I don't really want to die. I really am hopeless."

He smiled, ignoring the creep along his flesh, the feeling of something tightening round his heart. He thought of his family. There was a moment of pain, of fear, of dread for what time come after, and then-

Nothing.

His limbs no longer felt stiff, his skin no longer stretched. The heavy feeling on his back and shoulders lifted, floating away. Where darkness had been creeping into his vision merely moments ago, there was light now, soft and orange, like the setting of the sun.

It was so quiet, with a silence that seemed to stretch out across the world, across the ages. No a bird made a sound, not a tree rustled in the breeze.

A shadow cut across him. Hohenheim opened his mouth, intending his last words to be of ushering this unwanted visitor away, but when he look up, he fell silent. No words would ever take this visitor away of him, and nothing would incite him too.

It was Trisha's face that smiled down at his, Trisha who stood behind her own grave, as warm and welcoming and beautiful as she had been in life.

"I told you I would wait for you."

"Trisha..."

"Although... you do know how to keep a girl waiting!"

"Trisha..." it was all he could say, all he could _think _to say. He wanted to apologise, to beg forgiveness, to profess his love, to weep, but he couldn't. Nothing would come.

And one look at her face told him everything he needed to know. She held out a hand.

"Ssh, now, it's OK," her voice. It was as soft as she was, as soothing as cool water on a hot day. "It's time for us to go now."

Hohenheim reached out and clasped her fingers. Her touch, the feel of his skin of hers, was like rain on a parched plant. Everything, all the pain, all the sadness, all the guilt and blame, the regrets, the unhappiness, everything... all washed away until there was only him, and Trisha, and all their happy times left behind.

He stood up, not looking back, as she pulled him away. The light, the warm glow of sun, intensified until the graveyard melted away around them.

Nothing now. Nothing but the two of them.

Trisha turned to him and smiled, as something, the shape of some place or building, moulded out of the light. "Come... it's time for us to home."

.o0o.

**A/N: Aaaaand that's all folks! Thanks for all the awesome reviews, please tell me what you thought of this last little bit! Poor Hohenheim... ah, well, at least he's with his wife now. **


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